


a christmas miracle

by LadyMerlin



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banter, Christmas Party, Companionable Snark, First Kiss, Identity Reveal, Idiots in Love, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mistaken Identity, Office Party, Pre-Relationship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21938254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMerlin/pseuds/LadyMerlin
Summary: "Like, I get that reindeer are seasonally appropriate and everything, but you couldn’t be more boring if you tried. If youhadto get an ice sculpture, why not a tiger?”“A tiger?” Roy asks, sounding incredibly entertained. Most people start inching away when Ed starts ranting, but he looks like he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. “A Christmas tiger?”Ed rolls his eyes. “A non-denominational holiday tiger. Or like, a dragon. Something with teeth.”
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Comments: 84
Kudos: 518
Collections: FMA Gift Exchange 2019, things i read





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [butbythegrace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/butbythegrace/gifts).



> So, I missed the assignment email and then I also missed the reminder email and only remembered that this exchange was happening on 17 December, like a total idiot. Thankfully Tierfal was kind enough to give me a prompt which took a life of its own and quickly took over my entire brain, so this was a lot more fun than I thought it would be! My sincere and eternal gratitude to you and Iginita for helping me beta this on Christmas Eve / Christmas Day - I owe you guys one. 
> 
> Butbythegrace, I really hope you like this! I apologise for the title - my muse is on holiday :/ Chapter 2 will be out in the new year (or as soon as I can get my act together), so until then, I wish you (and all the readers) Happy Holidays and a Wonderful New Year!
> 
> Note: as always, my adult!Ed is a bit of a sadsack, but that's because I personally think adulthood can be pretty lonely. There are no major warnings for this fic, but a gentle reminder that the holidays aren't great for everyone, and Ed falls in that category.

“God, Ed, you can’t spend the entire week moping around just because Al’s not here!” 

“Uh huh,” Ed says, not paying Winry any attention. He’s not moping. There’s a show on television about people trying to save some beached whales, and he’s trying to record it for Al to watch when he’s back from Cambodia, or Vietnam, or wherever he is this week. 

“Honestly, Ed.” She sounds serious now, so he puts down the remote and turns to look at Winry; he hasn’t survived this long by ignoring her. “This isn’t good for you. You can’t do this to yourself. You need to make friends, or pick up a hobby, or _something_.” 

“I have friends, Win. I have you and Paninya and Al is my brother; I don’t need anyone else.” He ignores the bit about hobbies because he doesn’t actually have time for that shit. His work is all-encompassing, and that’s how he likes it. Blah blah idle hands and all that. 

Winry looks incredibly sad, and even though he doesn’t agree with what she’s trying to say, he doesn’t want her to be sad either. Ed sighs and tries to compromise. “Win, it’s the end of the year. It’s not like anyone wants to hang out with their friends over the holiday period. Even my work friends would rather be with their families, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m spending time with mine, aren’t I?” 

Winry softens like he knew she would, but then her eyes acquire a steely glint. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, Ed. But I tell you what, I’ll stop bothering you about this if you do one simple thing. You have to come for the R2M holiday party.” 

Ed can’t help but pull a face at the thought of attending a party organised by the people they both work for. “I already told them I’m not going on the RSVP.” There’s nothing to be done about it now; even Winry wouldn’t condone gatecrashing a work party. 

He knows he’s misstepped though, when Winry smiles like she’s won something. “Good thing I have a plus one, then.” 

Ed scowls. He’d forgotten about that. “You’ll stop bugging me if I come?” 

“If you come and make an _effort,_ yes,” she clarifies, because she knows him too well. “I don’t want you to be lonely, Ed. That’s all.” 

Though he doesn’t agree with her methods, Ed doesn’t particularly want to be lonely either. “Fine.” 

-

The invitation specifies that it’s a black-tie event, which, what does that even _mean_? 

Ed starts with a black t-shirt and a skinny tie loosely knotted around his neck, but Winry rolls her eyes and tells him that black-tie isn’t the same as ‘lead-vocalist-of-an-emo-punk-band’. She forces him into a too-tight suit, but when he tries to ditch the bowtie and undo a couple of buttons, Winry slaps his hands away. It’s not fair; Ed just likes being comfortable, and there’s nothing wrong with the amount of black in his wardrobe. Unfortunately, even though the outfit looks ridiculous, it’s not like he has anything more formal than the suit he wore to his mother’s funeral, and he’s not wearing that tonight.

He gets it when the taxi turns into the driveway of a house that looks like it came straight out of someone’s wildest HGTV dreams. It's all stone and marble and twinkling Christmas lights, and even Ed has to admit that it looks pretty damn special. It looks nice enough that Ed would have looked horribly out of place if he’d been wearing anything _other_ than Winry’s monkey suit. Winry herself looks really nice in a dark red dress, attracting attention from the moment she walks through the front-door and into the large living/dining room. 

There are already about thirty people there, and Ed resists the urge to growl at anyone who glances at Winry from the corners of their eyes, mostly because Winry would kill him if he dared to imply that she couldn’t take care of herself. 

Even then, despite the clothes, Ed feels like an imposter. Like if anyone looked at him carefully, they’d see through the pretense. He doesn’t belong here. He has no idea what he’s doing. If there’s one thing Ed hates more than anything else, it’s incompetence, and he’s no more forgiving of it in himself than he is of it in others.

It makes him a little awkward. He greets some people he’s seen around the office and then retreats to a corner near the buffet table, even though his stomach is churning too much for him to feel hungry. If he’s lucky, no one will bother him here. Winry has already ditched him to hang out with her office friends. Ten years ago, he’d have followed her to save himself and to embarrass her at the same time, but he thinks he’s mostly past that. 

Instead he stands there and watches the crowd, people mingling in small groups of twos and threes, all of them holding glasses of wine in their hands. There’s a waiter walking around, handing out canapes and refreshing people’s drinks. It’s probably the fanciest house-party he’s ever seen, and he pretends he’s observing a different species of animal in its natural habitat, until he feels a light tug at the hem of his pants. 

He glances down automatically, and sees a small hand emerging from underneath the buffet table. He glances around himself to make sure no one is watching him before he sinks into a squat and lifts the heavy table-cloth. Peering at him from the darkness are two sets of eyes; one belonging to a dog, and the other to a small child. “Hi,” he says, because a greeting is always a good place to start, even though he has no experience with finding small children underneath pieces of furniture in other people’s houses. 

“Hi,” the child replies, her voice high and girlish. The dog _boofs_ , politely chiming in. “Can you pass me a brownie from up there?” she asks, as if there’s nothing unusual about this picture. 

“I could,” Ed says, without thinking about it, “but brownies have chocolate, and dogs aren’t supposed to eat chocolate.” The child glances back at her dog, consideringly. “What’s your name, kid?” 

“Elicia. This is Hayate.” 

“Nice to meet you Elicia, Hayate. I’m Ed.” He extends a hand to shake and Elicia takes it lightly, not even blinking at the automail. She rises in his estimation. He extends a hand to Hayate and he’s half-joking, but Hayate also shakes it, making both Ed and Elicia grin in delight. “What are you doing down there?” Ed asks, like crawling under a buffet table to escape the party isn’t looking like an increasingly viable option. 

Elicia studies him with huge eyes. “Don’t like parties, and I miss my papa.” 

Something about the look on her face tells Ed that her papa isn’t away on a business trip or anything. This is the kind of missing that happens because ‘papa’ isn’t ever coming back. He sighs and leans back on his haunches, taking an absent joy in the knowledge that the suit will be wrinkled beyond recognition. “What a coincidence. I don’t like parties either, and though I don’t miss my papa, I _do_ miss my mom.” 

Elicia mouths around the word ‘coincidence’ like she’s trying to figure it out. Ed won’t offer an explanation until she asks for one; he’d always hated condescension as a kid. He still hates it now. “Can I offer you a slice of apple instead? I’m pretty sure dogs can eat apples.” 

She glances at Hayate and then nods decisively. “Apples, please.” 

Ed nods and stands up to wrap some sliced fruit in a napkin, passing it down to Elicia as subtly as he can. “Thanks, Ed.” 

“You’re welcome, kid. Merry Christmas.” She smiles at him sweetly before crawling off towards the other side of the table, Hayate following sedately at her heels. Ed finds himself alone again, suddenly lonelier than he had been before. He wishes he was at home right now; being alone in his room is somehow less upsetting than being alone in a crowded room. 

Ed is staring down at his empty glass and considering whether he wants a second drink, when feet appear in his line of vision as someone comes to stand beside him. He blinks and looks up at the person - a guy - who’s nursing his own half-empty glass. 

The first thing Ed notices is that the man is _incredibly_ pretty. He’s so pretty that Ed does a double-take, like an absolute _moron._ He’s taller than Ed and his shoulders are broad and straight, and what Ed can see of his face from this angle is handsome, all fine features and blue eyes and long lashes. His dark hair spills over his forehead in soft waves and Ed knows he’s staring. 

“Hi,” the guy says, his lips curling up in a little smile as he glances at Ed sideways. 

“Hey,” Ed manages to get out. He’s a little proud of himself. That wasn’t _too_ embarrassing. 

“I couldn’t help but notice you passing apples to someone underneath the table,” the man continues casually. Ed feels his face going hot, oh god, he hadn’t even realised he was being watched. “You wouldn’t have, by any chance, seen a small child around here somewhere, would you? Cute little girl, answers to the name ‘Elicia’?” The man doesn’t sound upset or anything; in fact he sounds like he’s just on the verge of laughter.

Ed is a firm believer in not changing for anyone, but with those words he knows he’s lost his chance with this guy, however slim it had been. God, one day he’ll stop screwing things up for himself, but it doesn’t look like today will be that day. “I’m not a narc,” Ed scoffs before he can stop himself. 

But maybe, just maybe, someone is watching out for him, because the guy laughs and turns to face Ed. The effect is even stronger when Ed can see his whole face, and he really, _really_ hopes his pupils aren’t dilating or anything. There’s no way he can reach up to check whether he’s drooling without making a total ass of himself, so he grits his teeth and hopes. “Elicia always did inspire immediate loyalty in her new friends, so I’m not even surprised. But don’t worry, no one’s in trouble. She’s doing a pretty good job of dodging bedtime, all on her own.” 

“Bedtime is cruel and unusual punishment,” Ed opines, resisting the urge to slap himself. Could he even _sound_ more childish? No wait, he can salvage this. Or at least, he can try. “Everyone has different circadian cycles and stuff, you know? Kids, before they turn eighteen, they have a different sleep rhythm. It’s science,” he manages to say without stuttering. 

The guy looks even more amused, and his eyes are sparkling like, like clear pools of water or jewels or some shit, Ed is going to make himself _sick_. “Did that ever work on your parents?” he asks. 

By some miracle, Ed manages to avoid flinching. He shrugs instead. “Never stopped me from trying.” 

The guy studies him carefully, and even though Ed knows his delivery had been less than perfect, he mercifully lets it go. “I’m Roy,” the guy says, introducing himself instead. 

“I’m Ed. Merry Christmas, Roy.” Ed accepts Roy’s extended hand and shakes it firmly, trying not to think about how warm Roy’s hands are, or how much bigger they are than Ed’s own. 

“I don’t think I’ve met you before,” Roy says, drawing his hand back and sliding it into his pocket, leaning back slightly in what Al always called a ‘cool-guy’ pose. 

Ed raises an eyebrow, focusing on Roy’s comment instead of taking mental notes about the way his white shirt is unbuttoned to reveal a very nice throat. “It’s a big company,” Ed replies. “Big party. Is it so surprising we haven’t met before?” he asks, because he’s never met a casual conversation he couldn’t brutally murder. 

“Well, I don’t seem to remember any Ed’s who RSVP-ed. Or even a single Edward. I could be mistaken, but I doubt it.” 

God, why was Ed always attracted to the smug assholes? What was it about the confidence that got him every time, until it turned out that their egos had nothing to do with their actual competence? This isn’t going to end well, but Ed can’t help but engage with it anyway. He’s _weak_. “What are you, HR? Who the heck remembers everyone who RSVP’d to a party? Control freak, much?” 

“You could say that,” Roy says, the corner of his lips twitching up in a way that tells Ed he’s missing something, though he can’t quite place what it is. 

He sighs. “Whatever, man. I’m not crashing, if that’s what you’re implying. I’m here with Winry. Rockbell, I mean. The blonde girl over there. And I think I have my own invitation, but I didn’t RSVP to that one, so.”

“Why didn’t you RSVP?” Roy asks, which isn’t the part of his sentence that Ed thought he’d focus on, though in hindsight it probably does sound a little fake. 

Ed shrugs. “Wasn’t planning to come. I didn’t figure it was a genuine invitation. I’m a new hire, and I’m just the brain trust, you know? They keep me in the basement. I’m not exactly fit for polite company. At least that’s how it was at my last place.” 

“Ah,” Roy says, his dark eyes sharpening in a way that makes something stir in Ed’s stomach. “You’re Edward Elric, then.” 

Ed pauses, and then does a very careful double-take. “Just so you know, that was creepy.” Roy snorts. “No seriously, how did you know that?”

“New hire, brain trust, basement,” Roy says, counting points off his fingers, “and the fact that you’re one of the few whom I haven’t met yet.” 

“Seriously, dude, what the heck do you do that you have to meet everyone in the company? Who even bothers with that?” 

If there had been any justice in the universe, someone would have appeared just then, to save Ed from choking on his own foot, but he learned long ago that the universe is cruel for the most part, and indifferent at best. 

Roy flashes a quick grin, and lust - now a clearly identifiable emotion - stabs at Ed’s stomach, which, _fuck_. “If you guess, I’ll tell you.” 

Ed rolls his eyes and bites his tongue, literally, to prevent himself from pointing out how stupid that sounds, in deference to Winry’s hard-on for politeness. A waiter steps up to them and offers a tray of champagne flutes to Roy, who takes two glasses and hands one to Ed in a movement so smooth that it must have been practiced. Ed accepts it and toasts Roy as gently as he can with his automail arm. 

Really, Winry had done an excellent job on the fine motor skills on this thing. “Cheers,” he says, because Roy deserves at least some credit for making this evening more entertaining than he’d expected. Roy clinks their glasses together and takes a sip. Ed copies him. 

A moment passes. “Ever noticed that champagne kinda tastes like feet?” 

Roy barks out a laugh so loud that heads turn towards them before he manages to compose himself. “I thought I was the only one who thought that,” he replies once Ed stops sniggering at him, “but I wasn’t expecting the honest admission.” 

Ed shrugs, still smirking. “I figure it’s one of those emperor’s new clothes things, where everyone thinks it but no one wants to say it because then they’re the weirdos, you know? Good thing I’ve never much cared for what people think about me.” 

“I can see that,” Roy says, and he sounds approving, so Ed guesses that’s alright. “So why don’t you tell me what you think about the party? A little anonymous feedback for the organisers.” 

Ed studies him. “You’re one of the organisers, aren’t you?” Roy smiles at him again and Ed quietly, desperately thinks that he’d do almost anything for Roy to keep smiling at him like that. His toes are tingling and he hasn’t had nearly enough booze for this. “You gonna get me fired?” 

Roy presses a hand to his chest, looking mock-offended. “Do I look like I’d get you fired?” 

Ed rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you look like you _could_.” But then he thinks about it. “But you probably wouldn’t, I guess. Eh. I suppose you asked for it. Even if you do, it won’t be too hard for me to find another job, _and_ you’ll have to deal with Winry’s wrath, so I’ll take that risk.” 

“Your trust in me is flattering,” Roy says but he doesn’t sound offended, more amused. “But you can rest assured, I’m not going to get you fired.” 

“In that case… it’s a nice party. Really nice house. The kinda place me and my brother used to dream about when we were younger. Criminal shortage of books, but not everyone shares my impeccable taste in interior design. The lady behind the bar terrifies me. I can’t explain why, but when I look at her, I’m just filled with a deep and inexplicable fear. The kind when you see a predator lurking in the shadows, you know, even if you don’t know what it is? Like your gut knows it’s something with lots and lots of teeth.”

Roy’s smirk turns into a grin while Ed is speaking, and by the time he’s done airing his thoughts, Roy is laughing again, a hand pressed to his stomach like this is the funniest fucking thing he’s ever heard. Ed can’t help but smile in return, his cheeks hurting from it; he’s so damn proud of himself. 

“Now I understand why you’re the brain trust, Ed. People who’ve worked here for far longer than you have still see her as a harmless old woman. You’ve managed to see straight through her facade. Madame Mustang is easily the scariest person in this room.” 

“Madame Mustang? Any relation to the guy who owns the company?” Ed’s not exactly the most interested in politics but he’s not deaf, and nor is he stupid. He knows a bit about the management, even though it’s mostly second hand information from eavesdropping on gossip in the office. 

There’s a look in Roy’s eyes again, like Ed is missing something, but he still can’t figure out what it is. “Yes,” Roy says, interrupting his thoughts, “she’s his adoptive mother, if I remember correctly.” 

Ed shrugs. “Cool. So yeah, she scares the daylights out of me, and I don’t know why.” 

“It’s a sign that you’ve got an excellent survival instinct.” Ed accepts the compliment. He’ll ask Winry why Madame Mustang is so scary later. “What else?”

“Food’s nice but there’s never enough of it. I don’t understand the obsession with little soup spoons, seriously, what the fuck? It’s just so _inefficient,_ but Winry told me that if I don’t complain too much, she’ll take me to McDonald’s on the way home. I’m going to hold her to that.” 

Roy sighs. “Yeah, there’s always a _thing_ about the food. Half of us want canapés and the other half want more substantial food, but getting decent catering over the holiday period is a nightmare. Last year we went for a proper buffet, and half the guests ended up with food poisoning. We figured it was safer to stick with the canapés.” 

“Hell,” Ed swears emphatically, “that sounds like a smart decision. At least I can sue McDonald’s if they give me food poisoning.” 

Roy coughs on the edge of a laugh before he catches himself, shaking his head lightly. “Glad you approve of the canapés.” Roy doesn’t sound too sarcastic, so Ed doesn’t comment. It’s not like it’s his place to approve or disapprove of anything; working with Father and the Homunculi at his last job had taught him that well enough. “What else?” 

“Decoration is alright. Like I said, the house is nice. My brother would be in raptures over the tree. He’d probably ask if he could take it home, though there’s no chance of that thing fitting through the apartment door.” 

“Does your brother often ask to adopt bits of decoration from parties?” Ed doesn’t answer until he’s sure that Roy isn’t judging; _no one_ is allowed to judge Al except Ed. But Roy sounds honestly curious, and not judgmental at all. 

“You don’t know my brother. We attended a wedding once and they were going to throw away the flowers after it was over. He asked the organisers if he could take some home for our mom and the next thing I know, they’d arranged a delivery truck to transport _all_ the flowers to our mom’s place, _and_ a basket of food, all for free. Al’s puppy-dog eyes are absolutely lethal. People think I’m the scary brother, but really, he’s the one who’s going to take over the world one day. No army or weapons needed; he’ll just say please and thank you, and it’ll all be over.” 

“He sounds like a very intriguing young man.” Roy sounds charmed, which is the only correct reaction to Al, in Ed’s eyes. “He’d be a very useful fit for our company. We’ve been down a negotiator since Maes... passed away.” 

Ed doesn’t roll his eyes, in deference to the obvious grief in Roy’s voice. “Fat luck convincing him to join. Al’s a humanitarian. The only thing more powerful than his puppy-dog eyes is his belief that the world should be a better place, even if he has to do it all himself. He’s more into feeding orphans and manipulating pharmaceutical companies into providing drugs for free than brokering M&As.” 

“Is he out there feeding orphans right now?” Roy asks, sounding surprisingly interested in the answer. 

Ed nods. “Somewhere in Cambodia, if I remember correctly.” 

“Wow. You must be really proud of him.” Which is actually the nicest thing anyone has ever said to him about Al. 

Mostly people tell Ed it must be _so_ difficult for him to be apart from his brother during the holiday season, but the truth of it is that it’s not. Ed doesn’t want Al to be anywhere other than where _Al_ wants to be, not even if that means that Ed has no one else to hang out with during the holidays. It’s not as important as Al going after his dreams, and Ed doesn’t know why people don’t understand that Al is the best thing in Ed’s life, and that Ed would do _anything_ for him. Being apart from him is not hard, not in the way most people mean it. 

He nods, when he realises that the pause has stretched too long. “Yeah, actually. I really am proud of him. And he sounds happy when we talk, so I’m happy.” 

“That’s good,” Roy says, and shit, this version of his smile is even more deadly than the last one. 

The moment that passes isn’t as awkward as Ed had expected. “Anyway, like I was saying, the decoration is fine. The curtains are a bit too floral for my tastes, but god knows my tastes aren’t universal, even though they should be. I’ve just got one complaint.” 

“Yeah?” Roy asks, “and what is that?” 

“The ice sculpture. I mean, _really_. First of all, is this the 70’s? When did I accidentally invent time-travel? Seriously, an _ice sculpture_? The ice caps are melting dude, why’d you need an ice sculpture? And, like, I get that reindeer are seasonally appropriate and everything, but you couldn’t be more boring if you tried. If you had to get an ice sculpture, why not a tiger?” 

“A tiger?” Roy asks, sounding incredibly entertained. Most people start inching away when Ed starts ranting, but he looks like he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. “A Christmas tiger?” 

Ed rolls his eyes. “A non-denominational holiday tiger. Or like, a dragon. Something with teeth.” 

Roy is laughing at him. Ed can hear it in his voice even though it’s not showing on Roy’s face, but it doesn’t make him feel homicidal, which is a nice change. “Arguably, reindeer have teeth. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not disagreeing with you, but reindeer definitely have teeth.” 

Ed rolls his eyes again. “Not herbivore teeth. Cool teeth.” 

“So you mean... teeth made of ice?” 

It actually takes Ed a second to register the pun, but when he does he groans, because it’s so bad it actually hurts, and oh god not only is Roy attractive, he’s also a fucking dork, and Ed is going to die from this, oh _god_. “You’re the worst person on the planet,” he curses, “that was so bad, oh my god.” But he isn’t actually mad, not really, because Roy is chuckling to himself and he looks so damn pleased that Ed doesn’t have it in himself to be properly irritated. 

Roy doesn’t even object to the criticism, he just shrugs and smiles warmly at Ed, who’s really doing everything in his power to keep from melting into a puddle on the carpet. God, this is going to end so badly. “Anyway, is there a bathroom around here?” 

Roy doesn’t blink. “Just outside the hallway door, turn right. Want me to snag you a glass of something for when you’re back?” And Ed grins, because that settles one problem at least. He’d been worried that he was monopolising Roy’s time and Roy just didn’t know how to escape him, but from the sounds of it, Roy doesn’t mind. He nods and leaves. 

He doesn’t really need the bathroom, but he does need a moment to collect himself. He hasn’t been this attracted to another person in a very very long time. The bathroom is as fancy as the rest of the house, all marble and gold and mirrors, with little marble dispensers for soap and stuff. One of them dispenses moisturiser, and Ed rubs it into his skin after washing his hands. 

It probably won’t help his callouses so quickly, but if he does end up touching Roy’s hands, he doesn’t want to embarrass himself too much. 

God, he’s in way too deep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Preview of the next chapter: 
> 
> Roy seems to be happy enough to pretend that Ed hadn’t just stuck his foot in his mouth, and Ed isn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, for fear that he might stick his foot in there too. God knows Ed needs all the help he can get.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy seems to be happy enough to pretend that Ed hadn’t just stuck his foot in his mouth, and Ed isn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, for fear that he might stick his foot in there too. God knows Ed needs all the help he can get. “Yeah,” he says, a long moment later. “A tour sounds nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone! Here’s wishing that 2020 is even better than 2019, kinder and gentler and stronger in all the ways we need it to be! 
> 
> xxx  
> LadyMerlin

When he gets back, Roy is still waiting where Ed left him, but with a glass of red wine in his hand. Ed resists the urge to sneak up on him, the way he would have with any of his friends. Roy’s expression is a little fixed, but his shoulders ease when Ed steps in front of him, and it occurs to him that Roy had been worried about whether Ed would come back. 

What an absolute moron; where else was Ed going to go? 

“So why has your girlfriend abandoned you to my tender mercies?” Roy asks, instead of asking stupid questions about whether he’d found the bathroom. 

“Girlfriend?” Ed asks, stupidly. 

“Ms Rockbell, I mean.” 

Ed pretends to gag, which is probably not appropriate behaviour for a fancy party like this, but it makes Roy’s eyes gleam with amusement, so Ed doesn’t regret it. “Winry isn’t my girlfriend, the fuck. She’s like my sister. And I’m sure her partner would have something to say about it,  _ ick _ .” 

Ed doesn’t usually play the gender game, but he doesn’t know how cool Roy - or the company - is about same-sex relationships, and he’s not about to out Winry to a potential hostile. Though, if the way Roy has been eyeing him is anything to go by, Ed doesn’t think he has any reason to worry. Still, it’s not his place. He doesn’t know nearly enough about these people to be comfortable with things like that. 

“Oh? She should have brought her partner along,” Roy says, gently, like he can read Ed’s mind. “We want to meet the people who are important to our people. You should bring your brother along too, if you want, in the future.” 

Ed doesn’t make any comments about not knowing where Al will even be, this time next year; he gets what Roy is trying to say, it’s not about the details. “Thanks.” 

Roy just nods. “What about you?” Ed asks, when he’s sure that Roy isn’t going to say anything further. “Do you have any people who are important to you? Seems like you know about my whole family now, but I hardly know anything about yours.” 

“Well, I have a sister and a brother, but my brother died a while ago. My sister is hanging around here somewhere. My mom’s here too, but that’s because she kinda works for the company, and I don’t think she’d appreciate being called a ‘plus one’...” 

“I’m sorry about your brother,” Ed says, because he is. He can’t imagine what he’d do if anything happened to Al. 

Roy shrugs again, but not like he’s saying it’s not important. More like he’s telling Ed he doesn’t want to talk about it, and really, that’s fine. He gets it. “He had a wife, so my sister-in-law is here, and you’ve already met his daughter, Elicia, though she may be asleep right now. It’s past her bedtime.” 

Ed smiles softly at his glass. “Your family sounds nice, though it’s unlikely that your goddaughter is asleep on Christmas Eve while there’s a party going on outside.” There’s something about this that’s bothering Ed, something that sounds both familiar and unusual, and it’s on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t place it yet. It’s going to drive him crazy until he figures it out. 

Roy smiles too. “You’re probably right. She’s a darling, but she’s terribly spoiled.” 

“Nothing wrong with that. There’s no such thing as loving a kid too much.” And he really does believe this. It’s how his mother had raised him, and it’s how he tried to raise Al after she was gone. 

He’s not really sure how the conversation went from him criticising the party’s decorating choices to this, and he’s not really sure where they’ll go from here, which is why he’s a little grateful for the distraction when Winry bounds up beside him, a half-empty glass of champagne in her hand. “Hello, you lush,” he teases. “How many glasses have you had?”

“Edward, I swear to god, stop maligning me in front of the CEO. How on earth did you start talking to Roy anyway?” 

A number of puzzle pieces fall into place, all at once. He sees Roy hiding his expression behind the rim of his glass, but his shoulders are tense, like he’s worried how Ed’s going to react. 

But beyond the first moment of blinding embarrassment, Ed doesn’t think he’s angry or upset. He’s actually not bothered at all. Roy hadn’t hidden the fact that he was important here; he hadn’t hidden the fact that he was in some sort of management position that would require him to meet all the employees. He’d been honest with Ed in everything except the fact that he was Ed’s boss, and Ed - that had never been something that bothered Ed. His disregard for authority had always been based on the fact that the authorities rarely deserved his respect; Roy hadn’t done anything to make Ed think he was the same as everyone else. He could make a big deal out of this, or he could do something else… 

“ _ You’re _ the hot CEO?” Winry presses a hand across her eyes and sighs deeply, but her mouth is twitching so Ed probably hasn’t screwed up too badly. “Well, shit.” 

Roy is grinning easily now, and Ed knows he’s made the right choice. “Hot CEO?” 

Ed shrugs. “That’s what everyone calls you downstairs. How was I supposed to know it was you? You’re not that hot.” And that proves to be the final straw, because Roy doubles over laughing, his dark hair catching the light in a way that’s truly not fair. 

“I’d heard the nickname, but I thought they were talking about Riza.” 

Ed makes a face. “She’s pretty, sure, but I’m pretty sure she’s not a CEO? She’s the one who interviewed me, and I know she’s the COO. Also everyone says that in management, one of you is hot and the other one is smart, and that’s  _ definitely  _ not you, so…” 

Roy, who’s only just caught his breath, starts laughing again. “God, you’re so embarrassing, Ed, can you  _ not?  _ You’re not as funny as you think you are!” Winry hisses, but she’s got no room to talk, not when Roy himself is waving it off. 

“Well, Roy thinks I’m funny, don’t you, Roy?” 

“Oh certainly,” Roy says, eyes gleaming with humour. “You’re very amusing.” 

Ed turns to glare at Roy. “Oh, I’m going to  _ amuse _ you alright,” he says, through gritted teeth. There’s a beat when it looks like Roy is going to reply, maybe even call Ed’s bluff, and there’s something bubbling in his stomach like excitement, or possibly reflux. 

Winry is the one who breaks the tension. “Oooookay then, I’m going to leave you to your foreplay,” she announces out of the blue, before turning and walking away. It’s such a horrifying statement that for a second, Ed can’t do anything but stare in shock at her retreating back. 

“Jesus Christ, how much has she had to drink?” he asks himself lowly, only to hear Roy’s laughter next to him. “Stop laughing; alcoholism isn’t funny,” he grumbles, though he’s not actually mad. It feels like he’s talking just for the sake of it, because he doesn’t want the conversation to end. “Besides, this hardly counts as foreplay,” he continues, without actually planning to, like Winry’s ghost has taken over his mouth and is determined to make him say all sorts of inappropriate and horrifying things. He can actually feel the colour leave his face, not because he personally has any sense of shame but because he can only imagine what Al would say. God, his brother would be so embarrassed. 

He’s just about to apologise when Roy cuts him off. “Well, now that I’ve been outed and you know this is my house,” which is another utterly humiliating fact that Ed hadn’t actually considered, “I can address some of your earlier criticisms on my interior design. Would you like a tour?” Roy proposes, like Ed hadn’t just made a sexually suggestive comment scant seconds before. “Unless you’d rather stay here?”

Ed considers this. Roy seems to be happy enough to pretend that Ed hadn’t just stuck his foot in his mouth, and Ed isn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, for fear that he might stick his foot in there too. God knows Ed needs all the help he can get. “Yeah,” he says, a long moment later. “A tour sounds nice.” 

“Great. There’s a room I think you might like.” 

No one says anything when they quietly leave the large living room, though Ed does notice a blonde woman making pointed eye contact with Roy. After a second glance, he recognises her as Riza Hawkeye, commonly referred to as Roy’s better half. He wonders if that’s the woman Roy was referring to when he was talking about his sister. 

He sidles up to Roy in the corridor, pressing their arms together and guiltily enjoying the way Roy tenses up and then relaxes into the touch. It’s not entirely his fault, the corridor is a little narrow, he doesn’t have a choice. And Roy doesn’t seem to be objecting, so whatever. “So was that a look telling you to behave yourself?” 

“Why, what gives you the impression that I have  _ ever  _ misbehaved myself?” Roy teases, glancing at Ed sideways with a warmth in his eyes that travels straight down his spine and into his toes. 

Ed snorts. It’s the least elegant sound in the world, and he wants to kick himself, but Roy just looks charmed. He leads Ed past a bunch of rooms and up a staircase to the second floor. Ed wonders idly if he should be worried for his own safety, but then Roy accidentally bumps his shoulder and startles himself, and he’s reasonably sure he’s safe with the other man. 

He follows quietly, and Roy doesn’t offer any conversation until he stops in front of a particular door, and turns to face Ed. “Hopefully, this will redeem my home to you,” he says. Ed doesn’t have the chance to answer before Roy pushes the door open to reveal a library. 

Ed stares at the shelves stuffed full of books and recalls his earlier comment about having more books in his house. Then he thinks about the library that he’d once dreamt of having in his own house. Roy fidgets beside him and Ed realises he’s been quiet for far too long. “Holy shit, Roy,” he says, breaking the silence with the only words he can think of. “Holy shit.” 

Roy relaxes and pushes the door open further, ushering Ed in with a hand at the small of his back. Ed tries not to squirm at the touch, or to lean into it too obviously. “You can look around, if you like.” 

Roy doesn’t have to ask twice. Ed has always been weak for books. Some of the spines he sees are clearly old, collector’s and first editions which must have cost a pretty penny. He doesn’t know what they are yet, but it’s pretty clear that Roy likes books too, and really, Ed didn’t even know it was possible for him to feel more attracted to the man. He explores a bit, running his fingers down gilted spines and getting a feel for the books and subjects Roy is interested in. 

Roy rises in Ed’s estimation even further when he doesn’t disturb Ed for a good fifteen minutes, which is longer than most people can stand to leave Ed in silence. Eventually Ed does emerge from his daze to find Roy watching him quietly, leaning against a shelf with a leather-bound tome cradled in his arms. He doesn’t look impatient or anything, he’s just watching Ed while Ed explores the books, and it doesn’t feel awkward at all. It’s nice. 

Ed is allergic to nice, in the sense that his brain is hard-wired to disturb the peace. 

“What’s that?” He gestures at the book in Roy’s arms. He tries very hard not to feel jealous of the inanimate object for having such a comfortable resting place; Ed thinks he’d very much enjoy being cradled against Roy’s chest, but then again he’s perfectly aware of how nonsensical his thoughts are. 

Roy holds it out, face up for Ed to see. It’s a dictionary. “I thought you might like to look up the definition of foreplay.”

Ed blinks. 

Roy’s smile dims. 

Ed blinks again. 

Roy starts pulling the book back, no doubt opening his mouth to do something stupid like apologise, and Ed can’t be having that. “What,” he says, which, in his defence, is the first word he can think of while his brain is shorting like a hairdryer that’s been dropped in the bath. 

“I apologise, Edward, that was incredibly inappropriate—”

“No, no, shut up, don’t apologise!” Ed snaps, flapping a hand at Roy. “You’re  _ flirting _ with me?” Ed knows exactly how dumb he sounds the moment the words leave his lips, but he can’t do anything to pull them back. 

Roy sighs lightly and his expression is slightly pained. “Have been the entire evening, thanks for noticing.” 

“What?”

“I initially thought you were playing hard to get, but now I realise that - I’m still not sure if I’m misreading this, or if you actually have no idea how attractive you are. Of course, I’ll leave it at that, Ed; I’m not the type to persist where I’m not wanted, and I certainly won’t make things awkward for you at work, you can trust me—”

There are too many words coming out of Roy’s mouth for Ed to process all in one go, so he steps towards Roy and covers his mouth with his palm. It’s pretty rude, in hindsight, but Ed thinks they’re past that. “Me?” he asks, allowing himself to ask dumb questions in the interest of clarity. “You’re flirting with  _ me _ ?” 

Roy is beginning to look a little bemused, but there’s something guarded about the way he nods at Ed, like he’s bracing for the worst. 

“Jesus Christ, if you’d just said something, this would have been so much easier! Are you entirely sure?” Ed demands, taking a step further into Roy’s space and staring into his eyes. 

“If you ask me that one more time, I’m going to start being offended.” Roy doesn’t look as guarded anymore. In fact, he looks a little hopeful. 

“I’m the brain trust when it comes to alchemy,” Ed admits, “but Roy, when it comes to people, I'm an idiot. Can I kiss you?” 

All the ice remaining in Roy’s eyes melts, and his hands come out of his pockets to rest on Ed’s waist, and if  _ Ed  _ had tried that he’d have come off as a molester but from Roy it’s terribly charming and unfairly attractive, like the rest of him. “I’d like that,” he says, inching closer in a demonstration of just how much he’d like it, but Ed doesn’t give him a chance to say anymore. 

He leans in on tiptoes and presses his lips against Roy’s, squeezing his eyes shut just in case Roy changes his mind and decides to deck him. It’ll be better for everyone involved if he doesn’t see it coming. Instead Roy adjusts and leans towards him, his hands sliding around Ed’s waist and up his back, pulling them closer until their chests are pressed together and their lips are perfectly locked. Roy sucks at his lower lip and then nibbles it, and Ed shudders slightly and relaxes, letting Roy take control. 

Roy pulls away first, breathing a little heavily. Ed doesn’t open his eyes until a few long moments have passed. “Shit,” he swears, so close that he can feel Roy’s breath against his lips. 

“That’s about the size of it, yes,” Roy says, making no effort to move away. 

“Why do you have so many words?” Ed asks, a little dazed. “Your mouth could be put to much better use.” 

Roy laughs, but it’s ok because Ed’s smiling too. “Now I know you only like me because I have a nice mouth.” 

“Oh,” Ed says, unable to stop himself from glancing at Roy’s mouth and then looking away again, “don’t undersell yourself. The rest of you isn’t that bad either.” 

Roy’s fingers flex against his back and Ed is suddenly aware that his hand is still on Roy’s chest, fingers curled over the slope of his shoulder. If he moved just a few inches, he could touch Roy’s neck, or even kiss the curve of his jaw. “Why, Mr Elric, are you flirting with me?” Roy asks gently, ducking his head a little until they’re at the same height. 

“I guess I am,” Ed breathes, intoxicated by Roy’s closeness. When Roy kisses him again, it’s even better than the first time. The kiss is soft and sweet and just wet enough without being gross, and Ed doesn’t ever want it to end. As if he’s reading Ed’s mind, Roy cups his jaw and tilts his head back to deepen the kiss, and Ed lets him, stepping backwards until he’s pressed up against a nearby bookshelf. Roy’s body is a long line of heat from his chest to his shin and Ed melts into him, spine liquefying and knees turning into jelly. He lets himself be kissed until he’s breathless, and Roy pulls away just before Ed has to choose between passing out and gasping for air. 

But Roy is breathing hard too, and Ed takes a moment to revel in the fact that Roy is breathless from kissing  _ him _ . “Wow,” Roy whispers, and Ed can’t help but laugh at how dorky he sounds. He slides his hands around Roy’s waist and rests them on the small of his back, just for the sake of touching him. Ed kinda wants to venture lower but he’s not sure how appropriate that would be, considering the man is actually his boss. Instead he drops a light kiss on Roy’s jawline in the hope that he doesn’t have to think of any words to use, just yet. 

Roy kisses his cheek before stepping backwards and away. “We should probably talk about this?” he ventures, sounding a little uncertain. “I’m not entirely sure what the protocol is for things like this.”

Ed snorts. “We’re shit out of luck, then. I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but I’m not exactly a protocol kinda guy.” His braid has slipped out of shape from being pressed against the bookshelf, so Ed pulls elastic band off and starts combing through it with his fingers, trying to make it look like he hasn’t just been thoroughly kissed. 

It takes him a moment to realise Roy is watching his hair intently. “Really?” Ed asks, “this is what does it for you?” He can’t quite believe it, but the sight of Roy’s pupils visibly dilating when he pulls the end of his braid over his shoulder is damning. He reties the elastic neatly, suddenly feeling nervous.

Roy shakes his head and licks his lips. “I don’t think you have any notion of how beautiful you are, Edward.”

Despite himself, Ed feels himself blushing. “I don’t do this,” he admits, gesturing between himself and Roy. “Ever.” 

“Never?” Roy asks, emphasising the word a little differently. Ed shakes his head. He’s not morally opposed to it or anything, if that’s what Roy is asking. “For what it’s worth, I really do like you,” Roy continues, before Ed can anxiety-spiral into his own thoughts. 

Ed is unspeakably grateful that Roy is keeping things simple. “I like you too,” he says, because honesty doesn’t cost him anything, and these words are easy.

“Good, then. That makes things simpler, I think. Can I have your number?”

Ed pulls his phone out of his pocket and dismisses all of Winry’s excited messages on their family group chat. Soon enough Al will be awake to read them, and he’ll have a hell of a time explaining this to his little brother, but that’s a problem for tomorrow’s Ed. He hands it over to Roy, who enters his details and gives himself a missed call. “Just so we’re clear,” he says, ending the call on his own phone and returning Ed’s mobile to him. “I’m going to ask you out on a date. Is that okay?”

Ed considers this. “If I say yes, are you going to make us go back outside instead of hanging around here? I’m not sure I’m done with the kissing.” Roy goes shockingly pink and shakes his head, and Ed congratulates himself again. “Okay, then, yes. I’d love to go out on a date with you. But pick something not-too-expensive. We’re splitting the bill.” That’s one thing Ed is clear about; he’s not going to let anyone think he’s dating Roy for his money, not even Roy himself. 

“Alright,” Roy says, still blushing adorably. “I’ll text you the details.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“Good.” 

There’s a moment of awkward silence before they both descend into giggles, and after that it’s easy. 

Roy sits down in an oversized arm-chair and Ed squeezes in beside him with a book in his hands. Instead of complaining about the book, Roy just wraps his arm around Ed’s waist and lets him relax against his own body, warmer and more comfortable than he has any right to be. Roy rests his head against Ed’s, and Ed almost thinks he’s reading along with him, before he realises that Roy’s breathing has evened out, and he has drifted to sleep. His shoulder looks like a pretty comfortable place to nap. 

It takes a little flexibility, but he manages to slide his phone out of his pocket without having to stand up. He thumbs it on and composes a message to Winry. 

_ Don’t wait for me. Merry Christmas, Win. _

There. That should do the trick. He mutes the phone as notifications start flooding in, and takes a moment to marvel at the fact that this is his  _ life _ . Roy’s shoulder is as comfortable as it looks, and he makes the sweetest little sound when Ed curls towards him. Ed honestly can’t think of a better way to start the new year. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pls send love ❤️

**Author's Note:**

> Pls send love, I am parched. Alternately, pls send wishes that one day I meet-cute the person of my dreams at a Christmas party like this one.


End file.
